


Like stars going nova

by HelveticaBrown



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, F/F, Hook is in it but no CS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-17 05:10:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5855398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelveticaBrown/pseuds/HelveticaBrown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regina was supposed to be leading an easy survey mission on an uninhabited planet. It turns out to be anything but easy. From the moment Regina and her team make landfall, strange things happen: missing equipment, odd dreams, and signs that they might not be alone, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Beautifulincentive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beautifulincentive/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Swan Queen Big Bang Reverse art (comic)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5368979) by [Beautifulincentive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beautifulincentive/pseuds/Beautifulincentive). 



> This story was inspired by beautifulincentive's lovely artwork and I hope that it does it justice.
> 
> This is the first time I've written science fiction, so it was a really interesting and challenging exercise for me and I hope it turns out to be an enjoyable read.
> 
> Fair warning that Hook is featured in this fic, but there's absolutely no Captain Swan in sight. I've written his characterisation more in line with S2, so I hope you'll give it a chance in spite of his presence.
> 
> Thanks to AgathasAjax for beta reading for me and her reassurance that this wasn't a total failure, and to blutitanium for cheerleading.

* * *

The fires were roaring and she could hear the loose, undisciplined chatter of people deep in drink, celebrating the bonding. Neal had drunk deep from the cup she’d laced with sleeping herbs and she could hear him snoring. It was time to slip away while attention was focused elsewhere. They would be allowed a few hours of privacy to consummate the bonding, before they were expected to re-join the celebrations in the morning.

She made herself as compact, as invisible as she could, and made her way to the outskirts of the village and then onwards to the forest. She kept expecting to hear alarms being raised and it wasn’t until she was several minutes away with no signs of pursuit that she allowed herself to relax a little. But not much; Neal’s father would be furious the moment he realised she was gone.

Over the course of a few weeks, she’d stowed the gear she would need in the forest, away from the main trails. She moved quickly through the undergrowth, her feet sure and steady, even in the dark; she knew these trails like they were a part of her. It didn’t take long before she reached the base of the tree her gear was in. She made her way carefully up the tree, moving from branch to branch until she reached the one the oilskin pack was lashed to.

She was nervous. Everything had gone perfectly so far – too perfectly, perhaps – and now, with clear air in sight, she started to feel the weight of what she was doing more acutely. Her fingers fumbled at the knot in the rope, and she had to remind herself to settle and breathe and take the time she needed. She still couldn’t get it undone, and she had the horrible thought that all of her planning would be for nothing, just because of a knot tied wrong. Finally, she managed to work it loose, and she started to make her way back down the tree.

There was the sound of a twig breaking somewhere nearby, and Emma’s already racing heart sped up even further. She listened intently, and a moment later, she heard a rustle of leaves as someone or something moved through the dense undergrowth. It had to be someone following her; none of the creatures of the forest would move that heavily or clumsily.

She’d always enjoyed the thrill of the hunt – was one of the best in the clan at tracking – but now she was experiencing the unwelcome sensation of being prey and had an uncomfortable moment of empathy for all of the creatures she’d chased down.

She clamped down on her instinctive urge to reach out with her mind; she couldn’t risk being detected, and that was the surest way of being found. She made herself small again, drawing her mind down into herself, hoping that whoever had followed her was as clumsy at mind-tracking as he was at physical tracking.

There was a moment when she thought she was okay, but then she felt the brush of a mind against her own, and an insistent whisper, quiet but forceful.

_“Emma.”_

It was Neal. Her heart sunk, as she realised that he must not have had enough of the herbs and heard her leave. She pulled in tighter on herself, hoping that he would fail to find her a second time and write the contact off as a mistake.

It was no use, though. There was a second, probing contact, and Neal’s voice in her head, even more tightly focused than the first time. _“Emma, I know you’re up there. I just want to talk.”_

She heard him move closer to her hiding spot, and when she looked down, she could see the whites of his eyes glinting in the moonlight as he turned his face up towards her. She thought of the throwing knives stashed in her pack; it would be so very simple – little more than a flick of the wrist – and Neal’s pursuit would be ended. She thought about it, but she couldn’t. If she was to buy her escape at the cost of Neal’s blood, it would be with a fair fight, face-to-face. She owed him that much.

Nonetheless, she reached into the pack to grasp one of the knives, ensuring that she was armed for whatever confrontation might ensue. She was honourable, but she wasn’t an idiot.

She was about ten feet from the ground when she dropped down the rest of the way, landing behind Neal and quickly assuming a fighting stance, knife in hand. He turned at the sound and spread his arms wide, palms upturned.

_“I’m not going to try to take you back, I promise.”_

He took a step back, arms still outstretched, and this time, he said her name out loud. “Emma, please.”

She suppressed a gasp. She couldn’t remember when she had last heard her name spoken aloud. She wasn’t sure she ever had; perhaps she only recognised it because of the thought that sat behind it. The punishment for audible speech was unimaginable; no one ever talked about it directly, but she’d heard whispers about the terrible things that could happen. There were whispers that that’s what had happened to Jefferson, and why he wasn’t quite right in the head.

It was this risk, this act of defiance that made her relax her guard and believe that perhaps Neal could be trusted.

_“What do you want, Neal?”_

_“Like I said, I just want to talk. Then you can go.”_

_“Then talk. Quickly.”_ She was impatient to keep moving. The longer she tarried, the greater the chance she would be caught by someone other than Neal.

 _“I understand why you’re running. I didn’t want this either,”_ he said. Then he showed her an image of Tamara, confirming suspicions she’d long held about Neal’s affections.

_“And if I’m gone…”_

_“Tamara and I might have a chance to be together.”_ He finished her thought for her.

 _“How long have you known I was going to run?”_ If Neal knew, then who else…

_“I figured it out yesterday, when we were rehearsing the first dance. Your guard slipped for a moment and as close as we were, I couldn’t help but overhear some of your thoughts. And then, I saw you slip something into my cup tonight, so I only pretended to drink that lovely concoction you’d prepared for me.”_

He sent her an image of himself, surreptitiously dumping the contents of the cup, before pretending to drink. She rolled her eyes; he’d always been a little too good at sleight-of-hand. There had been many times he had entertained her when she was younger with his prowess at picking the pockets of the older clan members.

_“Did you let it slip to anyone else? Does your father know?”_

_“No. Just me. And it’ll stay that way.”_ He was telling the truth. She could see it in his eyes and hear it in his words.

He held out his hand. _“Give me your clothes. Shoes too.”_

She was more than happy to shed the wretched dress she’d been forced to wear for the bonding. She hadn’t been willing to risk the time it would take to change, so she’d been forced to wear it during her dash through the forest. She was less happy about handing over the brand new pair of boots she’d received as a bonding gift, but for the purposes of her escape, she was better off wearing the old pair she’d stowed in her pack just in case. She changed clothes and tossed the dress to Neal.

He smiled as he caught it, and said, _“I’ll lay a trail heading towards the river south of the village. I’ll make it seem like you’ve fallen in.”_ And she would go north, across a much greater, more treacherous river, putting as much distance and water in between herself and anyone who might think to look for her.

He closed the distance between them and she tensed up, still not entirely certain that he wasn’t about to turn her in. He pulled her into a quick embrace, and she’d only just relaxed when he stepped back again.

He pressed something into her hand – it was small and cold and hard – and when she opened her hand, she saw it was a stone, darker than the night around them. It was so dark that it seemed to suck the light into it.

She frowned in confusion.

_“I’ve been working on it for a while. It absorbs leaky thoughts, dulls their resonance. It’ll make it harder for my father, or anyone else, to detect you.”_

She started to respond, but he interrupted her. _“Don’t worry about it, I have another almost finished.”_

_“Thank you.”_

_“Now go.”_ She turned and walked away, not looking back, and as she drew away, she felt one last gentle touch of his mind against hers. _“Goodbye, little sister. Be safe.”_

*****

Neal had obviously kept his promise, because there had been no signs of pursuit, none of the tell-tale echoes of minds searching for her own. She kept moving, though, just in case, never lingering more than a couple of days in the one place.

Summer had come and gone since she’d run and there had been times when she’d been tempted to turn around, to find her way back. It was lonely out here. Even though she’d never quite felt like she fit in, had always been the orphan living upon the sufferances of others, there was a degree of intimacy that came just from being around others, feeling the brush of other minds against her own.

Now, she might as well be the only person in the world. And perhaps she was. She had expected at some point to encounter other settlements, other signs of life, but no matter how far she roamed she found more of the same untouched wilderness. It made the hunt easy; far away from the village, prey animals had not learned the same wariness as those that roamed where humans trod.

She didn’t go back though. There had been a certainty driving her onwards that there was more for her out there somewhere. To stay with the clan would have been to settle, to deny herself the chance at something greater.

She held on to that faith, and it sustained her through the darkness and the loneliness, until one night, drifting off to sleep, she felt the touch of another mind against her own for the first time in several cycles of the moon.

It was a touch that was both wholly foreign and yet strangely familiar, and it drew her deeper and deeper, enmeshing with her in a way that should have been alarmingly intimate. Should have been, but wasn’t. After all this time, this was the truth that she had been seeking.


	2. Contact

Regina hurried through the trees, a sense of urgency driving her onwards. She stumbled occasionally, but she was eager to reach her destination, and the odd tree root or rock was not going to be enough to stop her.

The first night she’d come this way, she’d fallen so many times, but there was a call that echoed in her head, in her heart, in her blood and she’d ignored the pain of bruised and bloodied knees and continued on her way each time. With each successive night, she grew more sure, more fleet of foot, and this time hardly any time elapsed before she reached her destination.

 _There._ She could hear the whisper of the stream on her left and see the great tree looming ahead. And there, leaning against the trunk, was her companion of the last few nights. She was barely visible under the dim, red light of the moon, just an indistinct form that almost could have been part of the tree. Most people would have walked right past her. But Regina knew she was there, even before she unfolded herself from against the trunk. She could _feel_ her.

She could never quite see her face, hidden as it was by shadow, but her fingers had mapped out the planes of it and she _knew_ her. Smooth skin, high cheekbones, a strong but feminine jawline, a stubborn chin, straight nose – not too long – and firm lips that were neither full nor thin and accustomed to both smiling and frowning.

Those lips were upon hers as soon as she reached the base of the tree, and cool, strong, calloused hands cupped her jaw, tangled in her hair, drew her closer until their bodies were melded together.

They rarely spoke. Even the first night, few words had passed between them. A name – _Emma_ – one of the few. Somehow, she’d already known all that she needed to.

Then she was being pushed away, a last caress of her cheek a very slight salve against acute, intense disappointment. Then urgent words being spoken. _Go. It’s not safe to stay any longer._

She woke up, feeling strangely bereft, as she had every night since they’d landed on the planet.

*****

Regina tried to shake the odd feeling she’d had for the last hour and focus on the task at hand. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but there was something bothering her, a sense of something not quite right.

She shaded her eyes with her hand and scanned the landscape for signs of the surveybots that had gone missing. This was the third one that had failed to return from this sector in the space of a week, and she suspected she’d be getting a rather harshly-worded please explain from HQ if the survey mission continued to burn through equipment at this rate.

The occasional loss was expected; there was nothing they could do to control poor weather, random acts of animal predation, electromagnetic interference, or a variety of other events. However, there were no immediately obvious explanations in this case. Planet H137269G, based on preliminary long-range surveys, was an unexceptional habitable planet with no species showing signs of higher intelligence.

The last few signals they’d received from the tracking beacons on each of the bots had all originated within a couple of klicks of the spot she was standing in now. Her scanner hadn’t picked up anything, so she was resorting to old-fashioned human eyesight to make doubly sure there was nothing there.

If she’d had a choice in the matter, she probably would have written off the site after the first bot had disappeared. Unfortunately, this particular area was high on PlanEx’s list of potential colony sites for the planet. Instead, she needed to figure out what had happened to their equipment and then probably conduct a detailed survey manually.

She sighed. There were no clues in her immediate surroundings pointing towards the fate of the bots. While she was here, though, she might as well take a few samples and kill two birds with one stone.

She crouched down next to the stream and started to collect samples of the soil, the water, the vegetative matter on the bank and ran them through the Portalyser.

As she continued to take samples, that feeling of something not right solidified. She was being watched, she was sure of it. The rest of the team were supposed to be covering different parts of the search quadrant; none of them should be near her position yet, and she hadn’t heard them approach.

She took her time getting to her feet and turned slowly, acting like nothing was up. She wasn’t sure why, but she had a feeling that her unseen watcher was in the thicket of trees behind her. She turned around far enough that she could just see the area in her peripheral vision. There was a flash of movement, barely enough to register, but enough for her to be certain that something was there and it wasn’t one of the team.

She let her hand drop to her sidearm. On a mission like this it was primarily used for tranquilising fauna, but it could be useful for other things too.

There was the crack of a twig and she turned sharply to the direction of the sound, already drawing her weapon. There was a split-second between when she recognised the presence of a threat and when she fired. It was enough time to register the scantest of details: a woman, strangely-dressed, holding a bow and arrow, the string taut.

Her shot hit its mark and the woman collapsed to the ground. Regina approached cautiously; her weapon had been set at low power, so there were no guarantees that the woman would be unconscious for long.

She frowned pensively as she regarded the unconscious woman. Nothing about this situation made sense. This was supposed to be a routine survey mission on an uninhabited planet, and yet lying on the ground in front of her was evidence to the contrary. A surprisingly human-looking piece of evidence to the contrary.

PlanEx was prohibited from colonising planets with intelligent life. In reality, Regina suspected that they didn’t always abide by those regulations. She’d heard rumours of planets out on the frontiers, far from regulatory oversight, being invaded and Indigenous populations wiped out.

She reached the woman’s side, cataloguing the details she hadn’t had time to notice before. The woman was perhaps slightly taller than her, slender, with well-muscled arms. Long, golden hair was mostly concealed under a cap that appeared to be made from fur, sourced from an animal that appeared similar to a wolf. The rest of her clothing appeared designed to blend into the forest – a mix of greens and browns – and the cloth appeared to be slightly rough, but there was some degree of sophistication evident in its manufacture.

In addition to the bow, the woman had several other weapons secreted about her person – mostly knives – and Regina set about removing each of them.

Once she’d secured the weaponry, she pulled out her com and contacted the rest of the team. “We’ve got a problem. Rendezvous at my position, and be on your guard. One confirmed hostile, could be others about.”

Whale was the first to arrive and he surveyed the scene with a raised eyebrow. “Well, that certainly makes things interesting.” He bent down to examine the woman. “She’s well and truly out of it.” He frowned. “She looks human, but I don’t know why there’d be a human woman running around on this godforsaken planet with a bow and arrow.”

The majority of sentient species humanity had encountered during their explorations were somewhat humanoid in form. However, there were typically some fairly distinctive features that marked them apart; to find a species so superficially similar to them would seem to be completely improbable.

Jones and Mulan arrived within moments of each other, and they all stood around the unconscious woman, looking at each other uncertainly.

“Did anyone else encounter signs that we’re not alone?” Regina asked.

They all shook their heads.

“And nobody found any signs of the surveybots?” At the blank faces all round, Regina sighed. “Of course not.” Nothing about this day was going to go right.

“So what do we do about her then?” Whale asked, prodding the woman’s arm with his foot.

For a so-called healer, Whale had just about the worst bedside manner Regina had ever seen. His overall attitude left plenty to be desired, too; he’d complained for hours that traipsing around looking for scrap metal wasn’t in his job description, even though in a small team like this, specialists were expected to take on a variety of jobs.

Regina shot a glare at him and was about to respond when Jones cut in. “I vote we kill her,” he said. “Dead aliens tell no tales.”

As one, they all turned to look at him incredulously.

“What? I was joking,” he said.

Regina was almost certain that he wasn’t and that suspicion was confirmed when, a moment later, she heard him mutter under his breath that it would make things a lot simpler. She was somewhat inclined to agree with the sentiment – this was going to result in a hell of a lot of paperwork – even if there was no way she’d actually consider taking that course of action.

“Let me make one thing clear. We’re not killing anyone,” Regina said, imbuing her voice with every bit of steel she’d learned when she’d been in the command track at the academy.

“What if we left her here?” Mulan asked. “She might not even remember anything.”

Whale shook his head. “I don’t know anything about her physiology, but there’s a good chance that as soon as the sun goes down she’ll have trouble regulating her temperature if she’s unconscious. If we left her here and she didn’t wake up in time, we’d probably be killing her anyway.”

Technically, given that PlanEx had full exploration and settlement rights over the planet, Regina as the most senior representative present was authorised to detain any trespassers.

However, everything about this situation was a complication she didn’t need. She already had enough on her plate with Victor Whale and Killian Jones, both of whom were new to her team this mission and both of whom promised to be trouble. Jones in particular seemed to be drawn from the absolute dregs of humanity, and the fact that he was an excellent pilot only went partway towards making up for that.

“Looks like we’re taking her with us,” Regina said. She gestured to Jones and Whale to pick up the unconscious woman, while she gathered the weaponry to study in more detail later on.

They made their way slowly back to the flyer, which Jones had landed in a clearing about a klick away. Whale complained the whole way about being used as a pack horse

As they were walking, Mulan asked, “Was there anything in the original briefing about this planet being inhabited?”

Regina shook her head. “Nothing. And if HQ _had_ been aware, there’s absolutely no chance that a team like ours would have been sent in.”

Regina cast her mind back to briefing she’d received prior to the mission. The pack had been pretty standard for this type of mission. The only slightly odd detail had been the timeframe between the long-range survey and this mission. It had been around 30 years since the planet had been incorporated by PlanEx, and given that this one wasn’t way out on the frontiers of their territory, that was a relatively long lead time.

They reached the flyer, by which time Regina was just about ready to kill Whale, and from the looks on Mulan and Jones’ faces, she suspected that they shared the sentiment. This was not going to be a fun mission. Regina missed Marco, her old pilot. He was gentle, easy-going and quiet, and absolutely no trouble. But he’d finally retired and she’d been stuck with Jones.

The short ride back to base was, thankfully, mostly quiet. Whale appeared too exhausted from his exertions to complain much, and Jones was focusing on piloting the flyer. They’d restrained the prisoner once they reached the flyer, as a precaution; however, she showed no signs of waking up. As they were nearing the base, Regina took advantage of the relative quiet to address the team.

“I’m sure you all understand that this is a very sensitive situation. I will be deciding on a course of action once I’ve considered the facts, but in the meantime, you will all observe a very strict protocol when interacting with the prisoner. No one will enter her cell without my authorisation.”

They arrived back at the base and moved the prisoner into the holding cell. There was more grumbling from Whale as they had to clear the cell out first. The standard design for PlanEx’s survey ships included a small holding cell, with little more than a bunk and a hygiene unit behind a privacy shield. It was rare to have to use it, but it was present as a precaution – very occasionally, things happened on long away missions and it was necessary to restrain a crew member. Generally, though, they ended up being used as excess storage space, as theirs presently was.

When the cell was cleared, Regina observed while Whale examined the prisoner.

“What’s the verdict? Have we inadvertently blundered into a first contact situation?” Regina’s training on first contact protocols was limited and hopelessly out of date. She was by no means alone in that; first contact situations were rare and bare-bones survey missions like this one certainly weren’t expected to carry xenoanthropologists or diplomats.

He shook his head. “Now that I’ve had a chance to examine her properly, I’m almost certain she’s human. I’ll take samples to run, but they should just confirm my suspicions.”

“So to repeat your earlier question, what is a human woman doing running around with a bow and arrow on a planet so far from home?”

Whale shrugged. “Stranded ship forced to set up base? Happens sometimes.”

It did happen. The galaxy felt like it was getting smaller every day as technology advanced, and humanity’s footprint spread out across the stars. But there were still mysteries out there, surprises that could catch even the savviest spacer unawares. There were hyperspace currents that could carry ships light years off course, pirates lying in wait for fat trade ships, and phenomena that human scientists still didn’t have theories to account for.

But something about this situation rang false. It didn’t feel like a stranded ship forced to make landfall on a nearby planet. For one, the weaponry she’d confiscated had not looked particularly primitive. Not like it should if it had been made without the right tools and expertise. And the prisoner had been armed to the teeth.

“Is she going to be okay?” If she wasn’t, it would solve some of her problems, but it would almost certainly open up a whole raft of other problems.

“Should be. She’s stable, but it takes some people longer to wake up than others.”

“Can you give me an estimate?”

He shrugged noncommittally. “Could be in the next five minutes. Could be hours. Could be days. Saw someone sleep for three weeks after they got hit, once. They woke up totally fine, like nothing had happened.”

Regina made an irritated sound. “Can’t you do anything to bring her out of it faster?”

She needed answers, quickly. In particular, she needed to know if there was a whole lot of trouble about to land on their heads. Now that she knew their prisoner was almost certainly human, she needed to know what kind of mess they’d walked into, and how badly they were outnumbered if the shit hit the fan.

“Not really.”

Regina sighed. Helpful was not a word anyone would ever be likely to use to describe Whale.

*****

She was working on analysing the few samples she’d managed to collect before their expedition had been cut short, when Whale interrupted her.

“She’s awake. Just thought you’d like to know. And the DNA typing finished. Definitely human.”

Well at least that simplified things a little bit, at least. She’d already sent a message through to HQ outlining what little she knew about the situation, and she’d provide them with an addendum once she’d had a chance to interrogate the prisoner.

“Send me through the results,” she said. “I wouldn’t mind taking a look myself.”

Regina made her way to the cell and stood outside. The woman paced the confines of the cell: four paces in each direction from one side to the other, from back to front. Occasionally, she would slap her hand against the energy shield that formed the front wall of the cell, before shaking her hand in disgust, like a cat that had dipped a paw into a puddle.

Regina stood quietly and watched for a while, taking the opportunity to observe the way the woman moved, the mannerisms, anything she could, really. Anything that might provide some clues.

Awake, there was a fierceness to her, a kind of contained fury. She moved with athleticism that spoke to some kind of training. The collection of weapons Regina had taken suggested some degree of combat training, and watching her now, Regina suspected that she would be quite adept at it.

And she was beautiful, Regina couldn’t help but notice. Ashen-faced and unconscious, there had been hints of that beauty present, but it was nothing compared to now. Now, green eyes shone startlingly bright in a face framed by loose, golden curls.

The woman stopped her pacing and stood a foot or so back from the energy barrier. It was Regina’s turn to be keenly observed; the woman’s eyes swept across her from head to toe, cataloguing every detail. When she’d finished her survey, she stood, arms folded, staring defiantly at Regina.

Regina finally spoke. “What’s your name?”

The woman continued to look at her, her expression unchanged. Regina tried again in as many languages as she could call to mind, thinking perhaps that somehow the woman didn’t speak Standard. None of them garnered a response.

Regina sighed. She was obviously very stubborn, or rather improbably, spoke only some obscure dialect that Regina wasn’t familiar with.

“Okay, let’s try something different, then. Where are you from?” She kept her tone even, trying to clamp down on the frustration.

Nothing.

“What’s the name of your ship?” This time, her voice was hard, commanding, in what she belatedly realised was a mimic of the tone she’d heard her mother use thousands of times. That should get a reaction; Admiral Cora Mills was well known for her ability to reduce even the most hardened officer to tears should she wish to, and while Regina didn’t have quite the same track record to draw upon, she still had a talent for intimidation when she wished it.

Nothing. Regina couldn’t quite believe it. She let her hand very obviously rest on her sidearm as she asked the next question.

“How many of you are there?”

Still nothing, not even with that implicit threat. Just the same implacable stare.

More to herself than anything else, Regina sighed and said, “What am I going to do with you?”

 _She’s not a threat. Let her go._ The thought came unbidden, and Regina shook her head. There was absolutely no way she could let her go just yet. Not until she’d received orders on how to proceed from HQ, and she suspected that either way, her orders would be to keep the woman contained, at least until they were evacuated from the planet.

For a moment, she thought there was a flicker of some kind of emotion on the woman’s face, some change in expression, but if there was, it was gone as quickly as it had come.

She leaned against the wall opposite the cell watching for a few more minutes. She didn’t ask any more questions. She just watched and waited for some kind of reaction. She was destined for frustration, though; eventually, the prisoner went and sat on the floor against one of the cell walls and proceeded to ignore Regina for all she was worth.

Regina gave up and returned to her workstation utterly frustrated.

She filed an addendum to the report to HQ – with very little new information – before bringing up the DNA typing results. It was late, and she’d probably regret her lack of sleep tomorrow, but her mind was whirling too quickly to allow her to sleep any time soon.

She skimmed through the results. _Human: 100% match. Female. Probable origin: #1 North America, New England region; #2 North America, Mid-west; #3 Septa Prime._

There was nothing there that gave her any particular clues, and she didn’t have access to any databases that would give her more detailed results.

She leaned back in her chair and massaged the back of her neck, trying to banish some of the tension that had been accruing all day.

She didn’t like this uncertainty. Everything about the situation was making her edgy, and she was beset with a constant niggling fear that they might find themselves under attack. Even if the only weaponry they carried was as primitive as the prisoner’s, there were only four of them against an unknown number. The ship was in lockdown, but as long as they were on the ground, they were vulnerable, particularly if they came up against someone who knew their way around ships.

Earlier, she’d ordered Mulan and Jones to recalibrate the scanners to detect human and humanoid life signals. She checked the logs for the third time since they’d been recalibrated and so far, they hadn’t detected anything at long range. The proximity sensors were hooked up to the alert system and she’d spent the last few hours half-expecting to hear the strident tones of the alarms.

At the very least, she suspected they were stuck on the planet for another week, although she hadn’t had confirmation of that yet. The transport that had brought them into the system was scheduled for stops in several other star systems in the region and there was no guarantee that it would be re-routed to pick them up before it was convenient to do so.

At this point, all she could do was wait and hope, and neither of those came particularly naturally to her. She fired off one last report, encrypted and disguised to look like incidental data. She figured she might as well hedge her bets, in case HQ came up with no useful intel (or decided to withhold it). After all, she did still have a couple of contacts who hadn’t completely cut her off when she’d left the Fleet and been repudiated by her mother.

Mal was one of them, and she had access to a lot of information that Regina could only dream of getting her hands on. She wasn’t entirely sure what Mal was doing these days – probably something highly classified – not that she’d ever been particularly sure of what Mal had been doing.

Regina suspected that the balance of past favours was probably stacked against her, but she crossed her fingers and hoped that she might be feeling generous for old times’ sake.


	3. Interrogation

She struggled to get to sleep, and when she finally did, it was shallow and fitful. For the first night in a while, her sleep was dreamless. She woke up early the next morning to the sound of her alarm and dragged herself unwillingly out of bed. At most, she’d managed a couple of hours and she felt sluggish and completely unprepared to face the day.

She had a quick shower before heading to the galley to grab a quick bite to eat. When confronted with what passed for food, her appetite suddenly dwindled, but she made herself choke down a few bites of the ration pack. Their hydroponics set-up had malfunctioned a few days ago, and they’d reached the point where they’d exhausted their supplies of fresh food.

She chased the food down with a couple of mugs of coffee, wincing at the bitter taste of the low-quality company-provided beans. She’d smuggled a small stash of the good stuff on board, but she wasn’t going to waste any of it on a morning like this when she’d barely have time to taste it, let alone savour it.

Sleeping on it had not helped shed any light on the best way to approach this problem. She grabbed another ration pack and made her way to the prisoner’s cell.

“I have food for you, but I’m going to need you to answer some questions for me first.”

She was met with the same flat look that she had been yesterday. After fifteen minutes of failed attempts at eliciting some kind of response to her questioning she sighed and pushed the ration pack through a gap she opened in the energy shield. She was tired, with a long day ahead of her, and the thought of resorting to these sorts of methods of questions sat uneasily with her.

No doubt Mother would have been disappointed in her efforts. She’d been starved into submission more than once as a child, and she suspected that if confronted with a recalcitrant prisoner, her mother wouldn’t have hesitated to resort to far more brutal methods.

She wasn’t her mother, though, and she’d spent most of the last decade trying to leave that legacy far behind her.

She watched as the prisoner grabbed the ration pack from where she’d placed it on the floor and started eating greedily, before pulling a face.

“Not going to thank me for this delicious meal?” Regina asked, not really expecting a response.

She was entirely unsurprised when the prisoner ignored her and continued eating, albeit with significantly less gusto now that she’d had a chance to actually taste what she was eating.

Regina stood outside the cell a while longer. Occasionally, she made a half-hearted attempt to question the prisoner again, but she was met with just as little response as she had been a few minutes ago and as she had yesterday.

After a while, she gave up and headed to her workstation. She was greeted by a notification of a new message, and when she opened it, she realised that HQ had finally sent instructions in response to her report.

It was pretty much as she’d expected; they were diverting a nearby transport, and they were to rendezvous in eight days’ time, so they’d have to hold on until then. In the meantime, the ship was to remain in lockdown and they were to secure the prisoner for transport and questioning.

There was a briefing note included in the pack about a private yacht that had gone missing in this region of space around five months ago, along with six passengers. The implication was clear; their prisoner was allegedly one of those passengers. Regina shook her head as she read the report. Something about it just didn’t feel right to her. She was going to have to hope that Mal came through for her.

She passed the orders and the briefing along to the rest of the team; Mulan and Jones listened in silence, and when Whale opened his mouth to start complaining, Regina quelled him with a look.

She spent much of the day working through analysing the backlog of samples that had accrued. She made two more attempts to extract some kind of information from the prisoner when she delivered meals, this time leading with kindness, attempting to build some kind of rapport. Both attempts fell just as flat.

*****

It was late, and despite her lack of sleep of the previous evening, Regina didn’t feel quite ready for bed. She headed to the galley to make herself some tea, and when she headed for the common room to sit for a while and drink it, she was surprised to find Mulan also awake and occupying the room.

She sat down opposite Mulan and wrapped her hands around her mug of tea, enjoying the warmth and the moment of relaxation. Mulan nodded a greeting, taking a sip from her own mug, before finally speaking.

“You’ve given us the official line, but we’ve worked together long enough. What do you really think of this situation?”

“My instincts say we’ve landed square in the middle of trouble.” Regina shook her head. “I don’t know what kind of trouble it is, exactly, and I suspect that none of us really wants to find out.”

“Mine too. I don’t like this at all.” Mulan stared pensively into her tea before speaking again. “Has the prisoner talked yet?”

“Not a word, and lord knows I’ve tried.” She’d made her way through basic questions in another couple of dozen languages with no success. She’d even asked Whale if there was anything in his examination that would suggest that the prisoner had problems with speech or comprehension.

“It makes absolutely no sense.” Mulan frowned, obviously worrying at the puzzle presented by the situation. “If she was stranded here following some sort of accident, you would think that she would be eager to assist us.”

“I know. I don’t quite believe the briefing,” Regina said, and Mulan’s expression was entirely unsurprised at that statement.

“You know, this was supposed to be a milk run, but I feel like it’s shaping up to be anything but.” Mulan glared at her with a hint of reproach, but there was no real heat in her look.

“Not interested in trouble anymore? Are you getting soft in your old age?” she asked teasingly. Regina had never quite managed to prise out details of Mulan’s life prior to joining PlanEx, but she suspected that it was far more colourful than she was willing to let on.

Mulan shrugged. “After this one, I’m out. I’ll have enough saved so that Marian and I can book passage on a ship to Anahit Prime and buy ourselves a nice patch of dirt. I’m sick of eating nothing but ration packs and spending all my time in close quarters with misfits, military burnouts and scientists without social skills.” She softened the words with a smile and caught Regina’s gaze. “Present company excluded, of course.”

Regina snorted. “At least say it with a bit more conviction.” She pinned Mulan with a look. “So tell me, which one of those do you think I am?”

Mulan’s expression turned serious for a moment. “On any given day, you could fit any one of them.” The smile was back a moment later. “But what do I know? I’m just a humble engineer who spends her days playing with machines.”

Regina had never told Mulan her history, but she suspected that Mulan had guessed far more of it than she was comfortable sharing. There was a perceptiveness, a knowingness that was entirely at odds with her apparent profession.

“And what do you think of our new team mates?” She was interested in Mulan’s assessment, particularly since they’d been working together for a few weeks now.

“Whale’s definitely a scientist with poor social skills.” Mulan laughed. “My guess is he probably hopped into bed with the wrong woman and got banished to the frontier when her husband or father caught wind of it. Or maybe he ran up a few too many gambling debts.” She shrugged. “Whatever, the case, he comes from money, I can tell you that much. And guys like him don’t end up in places like this unless they’ve pissed a few too many people off.”

“Sounds plausible,” Regina said. She hadn’t dug too far into his background, but Mulan’s suspicions aligned pretty closely with her own. “And Jones?”

Mulan thought for a moment before saying, “Jones worries me. He’s a wildcard.”

“Really?” Regina kept her tone deliberately neutral. She wanted to hear more of Mulan’s impressions of Jones, because she suspected she was going to need every bit of leverage she could find to keep him in line. And if he worried Mulan…

“I’ve met men like him before. Most of them had spent time on the wrong side of the law.” She paused and took a sip of her tea, gathering her thoughts before continuing. “If I was a betting woman, I’d put down money on him being ex-military, before turning pirate. There’s just something about the way he flies, some of those manoeuvers… you won’t catch anyone in Fleet pulling them. He’s a brilliant pilot, but…” She shook her head.

“One of these days, I’m going to get your full story out of you,” Regina said, raising an eyebrow.

Mulan smiled enigmatically. “The same could be said for you. Maybe after this is all over, we can get a drink somewhere without ears.” She stood up. “But right now, I’m going to try to get some sleep. You should too. Good night.”

She left Regina to finish her tea alone; as she did, she mulled over the conversation she’d just had. Mulan’s impressions solidified a suspicion that had been niggling at Regina for a while. She was beginning to worry that in addition to the potential dangers from outside the ship, she might have to deal with trouble brewing within.

So far, Jones had toed the line reasonably well, but there were occasional moments that his behaviour bordered on defiance. Usually, he suppressed it quickly, but she suspected it was only a matter of time. And sometimes, she caught sight of his expression in unguarded moments and she had to clamp down on an instinctual fear that welled up in response. It was a look that spoke of violence and joy taken in it.

She wondered if Mulan was right about Jones being a pirate. She wondered just what kind of trouble she’d been saddled with.


	4. Unmasking

Regina slept.

She was in the forest again. The moon, which had previously lent a strange and lovely tint to the landscape, now seemed baleful, and every shadow seemed like it could conceal a threat. Regina made her way slowly through the forest this time, wary of traps, of pitfalls, of formless terrors that lurked.

This place had been a kind of refuge, but she wondered if some of the worries, the stresses of the day had started to bleed through.

She finally reached the meeting point, and for a moment, she thought that Emma wasn’t there. She felt a strange sort of devastation at the idea that Emma might not be there to greet her. It was almost physical in nature, and she brought a hand to her chest in an attempt to soothe a pain that wasn’t quite there.

But then Emma was unfolding herself from a seated position at the base of the tree and the tightness in her chest was loosening.

“You came. I didn’t think you would,” Emma said.

“Of course I did. I couldn’t stay away.” It was true. These nightly meetings, these dreams, made Regina feel more alive than she had in a long time. She tried not to dwell on them during her waking hours, but as the time to sleep drew closer, the anticipation built, until she was slipping on pyjamas and lying down, eager for what awaited her.

For so long, sleep had been something she’d feared. So many nights, she’d closed her eyes and been haunted by ghosts of the past. Daniel’s face contorted and screaming, blood dripping into his eyes and flames licking at his skin. She hadn’t seen him die and there’d been nothing left of him to bury, but her imagination had filled in the blanks. Sometimes she’d see the accusatory faces of the shipmates who’d become victims of her miscalculation. Seven dead, ten injured. Countless people grieving just like her, because of her.

She’d seen all of this over and over and dreaded the moment when she’d have to close her eyes. But now, sleep was welcome.

Normally, Emma was the one to close the distance between them, but tonight Regina stepped forward, tonight she pressed Emma back against the tree and sought her mouth hungrily. After the last couple of days, she desperately needed to lose herself, even if it was only in dreams and only for the briefest moment.

And she’d missed Emma with an intensity that surprised her. In dreams, it seemed that her power to trust, to connect had been restored in a way that hadn’t been present in real life for a very long time.

Emma made a surprised sound at her eagerness, and Regina chuckled, low and deep in her throat, the sound muffled by Emma’s mouth.

Her hands sought out skin, sliding under Emma’s shirt to skim her sides, to explore the hard muscle of her back. She grew braver in her explorations, her hands ranging further than they had before. Her mouth moved to Emma’s throat and she revelled in the gasps and sighs she elicited.

There was a sound, a crashing, rustling noise in the forest nearby. Regina tried to put it out of her mind, but she felt Emma tense up beneath her hands, and she pushed Regina back, holding her by her shoulders.

“Quickly,” Emma hissed, grabbing Regina by the hand and pulling her along after her.

They ran, Regina struggling to keep up as Emma picked her way easily through the forest. The section of forest they were passing through was one that Regina hadn’t ever ventured into. The trees were packed more densely together and the ground was far more uneven. And it was dark, darker than it had been on previous nights. While they’d been together a cover of cloud had formed, and the moon was only occasionally visible.

They’d been running for a couple of minutes, when Regina tripped, falling heavily to the ground. Emma swore. She turned to help Regina up and then dragged her into the shadows by the base of a large tree.

Regina opened her mouth to ask a question, but Emma pressed her fingers to Regina’s lips, indicating that she should be quiet. Then she pushed Regina back against the tree, wrapping her arms tightly around her.

She whispered in Regina’s ear, “Stay as still as you can, hold your breath, and try not to think too loud.”

Regina’s heart was pounding, hard and fast and she was certain it must be audible to whoever Emma thought was pursuing them. They stayed there like that, melded together, Regina’s lungs burning as she desperately tried not to release the breath she was holding.

The sound of their pursuer drew near, terrifyingly close, and Regina screwed her eyes shut and tried to think only of darkness, of nothingness. Just when she thought she might pass out, the sound started to move away. A moment later, she felt Emma relax slightly and she let the air whoosh out of her lungs before gasping in a fresh breath.

They stayed there, clinging to one another, breathing heavily. Regina’s heart was still beating so hard that she felt like it might break through her ribs. Gradually they relaxed and the terror of a moment ago dissipated.

When Regina finally had her breathing under control, she asked, “Who, or what, was that?”

“Someone you should hope you never meet.” Emma took a step back, taking hold of Regina’s hands.

In the darkness, Regina couldn’t see Emma’s face, but she could tell that she was looking at her with sober intent.

The moon chose that moment to come out from behind the clouds and it threw a shaft of light through a gap in the canopy. Regina gasped in surprise as the moonlight illuminated Emma’s face, throwing unexpectedly familiar features into stark relief. It couldn’t be…

Instinctually, she knew it to be true. She knew that if she ran her fingers over the prisoner’s face, she would feel the same cleft in her chin, the same broad, high forehead and sculpted cheekbones. And if she bent forward, closed the distance, she would recognise the feel of those lips against her own, would recognise the way they moved…

She knew it to be true, but she couldn’t understand how it could be possible. She wanted to rationalise it away, wanted to explain it as a curious act of her subconscious. Wanted to explain it as the product of a tired mind that had spent far too long over the past couple of days dwelling on the problem presented by the real owner of the face in front of her. She wanted to, but she couldn’t.

“How?” Regina couldn’t quite form the words she needed to articulate all of the questions that were welling up in her head.

“Regina…” Emma started, but she didn’t have a chance to finish whatever she was going to say, because she abruptly disappeared.

Regina stood staring in astonishment at the spot Emma had occupied a moment ago. “Emma?”

She called out again. “Emma, where are you?”

It was irrational, but Regina couldn’t help but feel worried. This was the first time that Emma had left her. Every other time, Emma had sent her away, or she’d woken up. And there was something else, a feeling that she couldn’t quite put her finger on, a sense of wrongness.

She woke up, and that sense of wrongness persisted. She scrambled to get out of bed and threw some clothes on.

She couldn’t say why, but she rushed towards the cell where their prisoner – where _Emma_ – was being held. As she reached the corridor, Jones emerged from it, blood dripping from his nose and what looked to be the beginnings of a black eye.

“She’s a bloody animal and she should be put down,” he snarled as she approached.

That undefined sense of wrongness crystallised as soon as she laid eyes on him and it was swiftly replaced by a rising fury. Her conversation with Mulan had proved strangely prophetic, and now she was going to have to find a way to deal with the trouble she’d been half-expecting, but desperately hoping wouldn’t eventuate.

Regina narrowed her eyes. “I ordered you to stay away from the prisoner. If you ignore another one of my orders, I’ll rip your arms off.”

It wasn’t the smartest approach, but Regina couldn’t quite restrain her rage. The fear of what he might have done was filling her chest with something thick and dark and suffocating, like hot tar, and the only way she could breathe was to let some of it out.

He took a step closer to her and smirked. “You wouldn’t have the balls, sweetheart. You need me to fly this rust-bucket back out of the atmosphere.”

It was all she could do not to black his other eye. Her fists clenched at her side and she knew instinctively that she could take him if it came to that. Guys like him were cocky; they didn’t expect someone of her size to hit as hard as she did or have as many tricks. And, she’d always been good at anticipating the moves of her opponents in a way that had impressed her instructors. That had stood her in good stead back in the academy. With time, and more than a few bruises, her fellow students learned not to underestimate her.

“Try me, you son of a bitch,” she ground out through clenched teeth.

“We can try anything you want, love.” He licked his lips and Regina suppressed the shudder of disgust she felt in response. The leer turned into a wet, choking cough and she could see a small spatter of blood stain the sleeve of his shirt, presumably from his broken nose.

Suddenly, he looked pitiful, rather than threatening.

“Get yourself to Whale and get him to fix you up. Not that you actually deserve it. And if I find out that you’ve come anywhere near this cell again, I’ll find another one to throw you into, only I’ll make sure it’s far less comfortable.” She was tempted, but with the situation as it was, she needed to use every resource at her disposal. And if it came to a fight with whoever might happen to be lurking on the planet, Jones would probably prove useful.

His eyes glittered malevolently as he said, “I know the truth, love. About why you’re out here hiding instead of playing at starship captain for Fleet and running around wherever Mommy Admiral tells you to. I know that you don’ have the guts. Underneath all of that, you’re soft. Weak.”

She managed not to flinch at that. Managed not to flinch at the knowing look he was giving her. Managed to push away the thoughts, the memories that were trying to push their way up unbidden. The anger was just enough to keep them at bay, and she let it fill her veins. She couldn’t afford to show any signs of weakness with someone like Jones.

She drew herself up to her full height and moved a step closer. “Get out of my sight before I change my mind and lock you up.”

He searched her eyes for a moment and presumably found an answer that he didn’t like, because he took a step back, before pushing past her.

She could hear him muttering as he walked away, and she had a horrible sense of premonition that this wasn’t over by a longshot.

She waited a moment, allowing her breathing and her heart rate to come back under control before stepping into the corridor and approaching the cell. Emma was sitting in the corner, cradling her right hand. Her knuckles were swollen and bruised-looking and it was obvious that her hand was causing her pain.

When she noticed Regina, she jumped to her feet, assuming a fighting stance.

“Emma,” Regina said, hoping she’d finally found a way to get a reaction.

And she had. There was a minute change in the woman’s body language at that. It was subtle, but it was enough to confirm what Regina could barely bring herself to believe. She had a name, at the very least. And somehow, improbable though it seemed, this woman and the one in her dreams really were one and the same. _Emma_.

“Did he hurt you?”

Emma stared at her for a moment before shaking her head.

“So you do understand me, then.” Regina’s mouth twisted into a smile. All this time… she couldn’t quite believe it.

She remembered seeing some first aid supplies among the pile of things that had been stored in the cell until yesterday and she quickly tracked them down before returning to the cell. She stood just outside the cell and took a deep breath…

She should have gone to get Mulan or Whale, made sure that she had back up, but she wanted to try to talk to Emma again and the presence of a second set of eyes and ears would interfere with that. It was a risk she probably shouldn’t be taking, but her instincts were telling her that Emma didn’t pose a threat, to her at least. She remodulated the energy barrier and stepped through; it closed behind her a fraction of a second later.

“I’m just going to take a look at your hand, see if it needs treatment.” She held out the first aid kit, hoping that Emma would recognise the intent behind her words and her actions.

Emma frowned, watching her intently. Regina was cautious in her approach, and she didn’t close the distance until she saw Emma relax.

“I’m sorry about this. I promise you that I won’t let him near you again.” She took Emma’s hand gently, inspecting the damage more closely. It was definitely bruised, and there were some cuts on her knuckles where she must have caught Jones’ teeth, but it didn’t seem like anything was broken. She’d get Whale to take a look later, anyway.

_“You could just let me go. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about him.”_

“You know I can’t do that,” Regina said, absent-mindedly, as she focused on swabbing the cuts on Emma’s hand with antiseptic.

She felt Emma tense up and she looked up to see her regarding her with surprise.

“Did I hurt you?” Regina asked.

Emma ignored the question. _“You heard me?”_

Now it was Regina’s turn to be surprised. She’d clearly heard those words, but she hadn’t seen Emma speak.

“I did… I heard you,” Regina said, her voice soft and wondering, as she tried to comprehend the situation. “How?”

_“Mind-to-mind. I thought that you were mind-locked, like the others.”_

It was disconcerting. It was like hearing, but not hearing, and the more Regina focused, the weirder it felt.

“The dreams…”

 _“…were real,”_ Emma said, finishing Regina’s thought.

“You recognised me, didn’t you? You knew who I was as soon as you saw me.” Regina frowned, wondering if she’d misplaced her trust. “Why didn’t you say something?”

_“You didn’t know who I was. I could tell straight away. And the dreams, they confused me. They were strange, even to me. It’s not how we normally communicate.”_

“We?”

 _“The clan.”_ She wasn’t accustomed to interpreting tone in mind-to-mind communication, but Regina sensed that there was something there. She narrowed her eyes, sensing that she finally had an opportunity to get some answers.

Regina stroked her thumb across the knuckles of Emma’s uninjured hand and watched her relax into the touch. “Tell me about them. Please, Emma. I need to know if they’re a threat.”

Emma hesitated, searching Regina’s eyes with her own, before finally responding. _“I don’t know. I ran months ago. I thought I’d done enough to cover my tracks, but I think they’re close to finding me. I don’t think they’d want to reveal themselves to you, but they want to get me back.”_

“That was them chasing us last night?”

Emma nodded.

This new information complicated things even further. If she let Emma go, they may not run into any trouble with the rest of the inhabitants of the planet. But she suspected that she’d be in worlds of trouble with HQ if she did let her go. In hindsight, she was beginning to regret sending that message, but she really hadn’t had a choice.

She needed more information. “How many of them are there? And what can they do?”

_“Around two hundred, including children. Most of them can’t do much more than communicate with each other. A few can reach into the minds of others and extract their thoughts. And one or two can plant ideas, can force their target to act in particular ways.”_

“Are you one of them? The last group, I mean?”

There was a sheepish look that Regina read as confirmation.

“You tried it on me yesterday, didn’t you?” Regina recalled the confusion she’d felt at thoughts creeping into her head that hadn’t felt quite right, quite like her own.

She nodded. _“And him…”_ There was an image of Jones, accompanied with a deep sense of disgust. _“I tried to convince him to let me out, but his mind, there’s something wrong with it. It’s like wading through a stream of filth. I saw some of his thoughts and… my control over him slipped.”_

“Don’t ever try that on me again,” Regina said, anger creeping into her voice. She’d spent far too much of her life being pushed in one direction or another.

 _“I’m sorry.”_ Emma looked at her with big, wounded eyes and Regina felt herself soften, unaccountably.

She shook her head. “I need to think about this. You know I can’t just let you go.”

 _“Why not? It’s safest if I keep running. Staying in one place too long…”_ Regina didn’t need to be an expert to recognise the fear in Emma’s thoughts.

“Do you trust me?”

There was a moment of hesitation, before Emma looked into her eyes. _“I do.”_

“I’ll find a way to keep you safe.” It was a promise she had no right to make; she had responsibilities, duties she had to fulfil, and none of them were supposed to be to Emma. And yet, she wondered if it came to it, whether she would put Emma before those responsibilities.

It was foolish to risk so much on a woman who had been nothing more than a dream until a short time ago. But even in the harsh light of day, away from the utopia of the dream world she felt a pull towards her, an insistent tug that was nothing to do with brain, and everything to do with heart and gut and instinct.

_“What if you can’t?”_

Regina couldn’t even entertain that possibility. “I have to.”

She squeezed Emma’s good hand and smiled in a way that she hoped was reassuring. She got a weak smile in return.

She needed time to figure out a way to keep them _all_ safe, but she didn’t have much time at all. She hated the idea of sacrificing Emma to save her own skin. And if she was honest, there was a small part of her that selfishly wanted to keep Emma here, close to her, a part that didn’t want to let her go.


	5. Revelations

Another two days had passed and she was yet to reach a decision about what to do about Emma.

It was odd to think that Emma was sleeping a few walls away, locked in a cell, and yet here they were sharing this experience. She still wasn’t quite sure what to make of it all, still couldn’t quite believe that she had this power, even if it was weak and limited. Over the past couple of days, she’d tried testing it out to see what she could do and been frustrated at every attempt.

She could occasionally hear Emma over a short distance, but she couldn’t project in return, in the absence of physical contact with Emma. So far, the only consistent use was to access the dream world they created together. The dream world that she was currently occupying.

The ground was still warm with the heat of the day. She lay with her head in Emma’s lap, strong, dextrous fingers combing through her hair with soothing pressure against her scalp. It was the most relaxed she’d been in a long time and Regina smiled as she wondered if it was possible to fall asleep in a dream.

“You know, I’m glad I found you,” Emma said. “Every part of the last few months has been worth it, just for this.”

Regina hadn’t really thought it through before, but she realised it must have been incredibly lonely for Emma.

In an unwitting response to Regina’s thoughts, Emma said, “It’s been tough. When I’m around others like me, there’s this constant hum, this reassuring presence at the borders of my consciousness. Running away and cutting myself off from that…” She shook her head.

“You know, you never told me why you ran.”

Emma’s fingers stilled, caught in Regina’s hair. She paused for a moment before responding. “I was to be bonded. He’s a good man, but not who I would have chosen for myself.” She smiled, but Regina could sense it was tinged with bitterness. “None of us get to choose who we’re bonded to.”

“You’re forced to marry?”

She hated the thought of Emma being pushed into something like that. There had been a time when Mother had tried to push her towards men she deemed suitable, matches that would be politically advantageous, but that had all ended with her discharge from the Fleet, when public association with Regina would have been politically damaging.

“And to bear children. The clan is small, but with time and the right nourishment it will grow strong.” It sounded like she was reciting from scripture, her tone mechanical, unemotional. “That’s what we’re taught, anyway.”

Regina sat up and turned to face her. “Oh, Emma… I’m sorry. Is there no one who would have stood against this on your behalf? Your parents?”

She felt sick, listening to this. She couldn’t imagine what Emma’s life had been like before. And now, it was one of loneliness, cut off from everyone she knew. There was a desperate urge welling up inside her to find a way to rescue Emma from all of this, some way to spirit her away.

“My parents are dead. I’ve been a ward of the clan as long as I can remember. And no one gets to choose. The man I was to bond to is the son of our leader. Even he had no choice.” Emma wrapped her arms around herself, and she seemed so small, so lost.

“I _had_ to run. Maybe it seems stupid, but somehow I just knew there was something _more_ out there. And I’d rather live with nothing at all, rather than a pale shadow of what I could have.”

Regina was quiet for a moment, listening to Emma intently. Eventually, she said, “I understand what you mean. I loved someone once. He died, and with him, I thought every bit of love I had in me died.

“In the end, I lost everything; my love, my career, my family,” Regina said, and she tried not to let her voice shake, tried not to let it betray just how close she was to tears. “I lost everything. But I don’t regret it; loving him was still worth it.”

“How did he die?” Emma asked, her voice soft and tentative.

“We were both in the military. Daniel was assigned to a border patrol ship in an area of space that was well known for being volatile. Border disputes, pirates, you name it. It was a high risk posting and he was only out there a month before it all went to hell.”

It had been a long time since she’d talked about this and it took Regina a moment to be able to continue. Emma took her hands, squeezing them comfortingly and she found the strength to keep talking. Even after all this time, it still hurt to think about Daniel.

“I found out later that my mother made the request to transfer him there; the ship wasn’t even one under her command, but she called in a favour to get it done. She never approved of our relationship, and at the very least, her aim was to get him as far away from me as possible.” Regina’s voice was brittle, and she was having to work even harder to maintain control. “I haven’t spoken to my mother in ten years.”

“I’m sorry.”

Regina shook her head. “Don’t be. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Please, just kiss me.”

Emma did, and for a while, Regina allowed herself to get lost in the softness of Emma’s lips against hers, in the sensation of hands mapping out her body, in gasps, in moans.

Afterwards, they lay there, limbs entangled, listening to the quiet sounds of the night.

Emma spoke, and it was barely more than a whisper, but it seemed loud against the stillness of a moment ago. “You said that all your love had died…” She trailed off, and the statement that wasn’t quite a question hung in the air between them, heavy and expectant.

Regina was silent for a long while, before she finally spoke. “I was wrong.”

*****

The next morning, there was a message from Mal waiting for her. She decided to take it in the privacy of her quarters.

She smiled a little wistfully as Mal’s face came up on her screen. It had been a couple of years since they’d last caught up, and Mal was always good fun. And, she was probably the closest thing that Regina had to an actual friend these days.

_“Hello Regina. I see you’ve been poking your nose into places that it most certainly doesn’t belong, and now you’re getting me into trouble too… But you always were a bad girl, weren’t you?_

_“I hope you realise you’re going to owe me an enormous favour, dear. This time, buying me a drink or three isn’t going to cut it. You’ll see what I mean when you look at the files I’ve sent you._

_“And be_ careful _. I fully intend to collect on that favour.”_

Regina closed the message and started to look through the files, incredibly curious about what she’d find, after hearing Mal’s warning.

The first file was an article about Rupert Gold, former CEO of PlanEx, and his death twenty years ago in a shuttle crash. She frowned, wondering why Mal would have sent this to her.

She opened another file; there was a summary of the investigation into the shuttle crash. The shuttle had been totally destroyed, obliterated to the point that there were barely any remains bigger than a single atom. The lead investigator had officially ruled it an accident, but there were notes littering the file that pointed towards the possibility that it hadn’t been an accident.

A third file outlined an investigation into cult activity. A variety of anti-technology cults had developed in the middle of the last century, aimed at restoring the strength and self-sufficiency of the human race. Activity was particularly concentrated on Septa Prime, with several offshoots of the original Old Earthers cult developing in that region. Regina frowned, as once again, Rupert Gold’s name appeared, with strong links to one of the cults.

Another file, heavily redacted, contained fragments of information about a eugenics program. There was a lot missing, and she couldn’t quite make out most of the details, but at one point in the document, she noticed that a word that might have been _PlanEx_ hadn’t been properly concealed.

She skimmed through another few files until she reached one that caught her eye. She eagerly devoured the information in front of her:

_Emma Blanchard, the 5-year-old daughter of Chief Minister of Septa Prime, Mary Margaret Blanchard, kidnapped._

The report was dated 20 Standard years ago, which would fit with Emma’s age, and – she flicked back to the shuttle crash report – the timing of both incidents was within a day.

She was finally starting to put together the pieces, and she really didn’t like the picture that was beginning to emerge.

She performed one last search, before she looked at the time; several hours had elapsed since she’d started looking through the files. She needed to talk to Emma about this; there were things she needed to know, and things she needed to tell her.

She was also starving; she stopped by the galley to grab two ration packs before heading to Emma’s cell.

“I brought you a _delicious_ meal,” Regina said, sarcasm lacing her voice.

Regina slid the ration pack into the cell, remaining on the other side of the energy barrier. She couldn’t risk being seen inside the cell by the rest of the crew; there would be too many questions.

_“Maybe you could just kill me, put me out of my misery, instead of continuing to torture me with this horrible food. I’ve tasted dirt that was better than this.”_

Despite her complaints, Emma started eating enthusiastically. Regina sighed and opened her ration pack, picking at it with somewhat less enthusiasm. Once they finished eating, Regina was eager to get down to business. She approached the energy barrier, creating a gap just big enough to allow her contact with Emma’s hand.

“Emma, do you know who this man is?” Regina showed her a picture of Rupert Gold.

Emma nodded. _“He’s the leader of the clan.”_

Even though the intel that Mal had provided seemed designed to point her in that direction, Regina was still a little surprised. Everything about this situation was beyond ridiculous. Cultists, CEOs of intergalactic corporations faking their own deaths, kidnapped daughters of politicians, telepathy. Any one of those things would have been utterly improbable, and yet, it was all true, it seemed.

“Emma, there’s something I have to tell you. Something about your past.”

_“What is it?”_

“Your parents… they’re still alive.”

 _“What?”_ Emma drew back from her, and even without direct contact, Regina could still hear her. _“No…”_ Emma shook her head.

“They’re on another planet. You were taken from them when you were very young.”

Emma was gaping at her, shock written all over her face. _“I don’t remember anything… How is that possible?”_

Regina shrugged. “I don’t know. You were five years old when you were taken, so presumably you should remember something. But maybe something happened to your memories.”

Emma’s gaze shifted and she was looking past Regina.

“Emma, what is it?” Regina whispered.

_“Someone’s watching.”_

Regina could feel the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. She could feel it too, now and she didn’t dare to speak any further. Instead, she nodded, and caught Emma’s gaze, trying to communicate every bit of reassurance and protectiveness and care she felt. _I’ll find a way to get you home_ , she thought.

As she walked away, Regina heard Emma, clear as a bell. _“Thank you.”_

She rounded the corner, but whoever had been there was already gone.


	6. Connections

Regina was in her quarters preparing for bed when she was overtaken by a feeling of vague unease. She tried to shake it off, but it continued to intensify and she put down her toothbrush and picked up her sidearm. It wouldn’t hurt to go check things out.

She was halfway down the corridor from her room when she heard the first shout; something was definitely not right. She picked up her pace, and as she rounded the next corner, she came upon Whale’s body. His throat had been slit from ear to ear.

She clamped down on the urge to be sick and tried to think critically about the situation. It couldn’t have been long; the spatters of blood on the wall were still wet. And he must have been taken completely by surprise, because otherwise she was sure she would have heard him.

Her train of thought was interrupted at the sound of another shout and she took off at a run towards the sound, sidearm in her hand.

It was just as well she did, because she arrived just in time to see Mulan engaging three men at once, with nothing more than a knife. All three of the men considerably outmassed her and they were all armed. As Regina was drawing her sidearm, Mulan ducked a swordstroke from one of the men moving smoothly to kick another of the men in the knee, sending him to the ground.

Regina was impressed to see that she was holding her own, but it was likely only a matter of time before she was overwhelmed. She dialled up the setting on her sidearm, taking out one of the men, and then a second. She couldn’t get a clear shot on the third; he’d closed in and was grappling with Mulan, both of them having lost their weapons.

Regina tried to move around to get a better shot, but they weren’t still long enough for her to be certain she wouldn’t hit Mulan. Just as she moved in to assist, Mulan finally got the upper hand, finishing him with a crushing blow to his windpipe.

Regina offered Mulan a hand to get up, letting her catch her breath for a moment. “Whale’s dead.”

“Damn.”

“How many of them are there?” Regina asked. “Did you get a look at them?”

Mulan shook her head. “Not sure. At least two more, but I was late to the party.”

Regina could feel her stomach knotting, as she asked, “Which way did they go?” She was certain that she already knew the answer and when Mulan replied, her worst fears were confirmed.

“Towards the holding cell, I think.”

They set off at a run, and as they went, Regina said, “I don’t understand why the proximity alarm didn’t sound.”

“I think Jones disabled it. I caught him coming back into the ship this afternoon and I don’t know where he’d been.”

Regina cursed. She should have trusted her instincts and locked the bastard up when he’d given her an excuse. Once again, she’d been tested and her judgment had been found wanting at the cost of peoples’ lives. Whale’s would be yet another face to add to the collection that haunted her in the depths of night.

Mulan must have sensed her despair, because she grabbed Regina’s wrist, stopping them both dead for a moment. In a fierce whisper, she said, “Snap out of it. Focus on the ones that are still alive. We need you more, right now.”

They were close to the cell, now. They peered around the corner, trying to assess the situation, just in time to see Jones deactivate the energy barrier at the front of the holding cell. Beside him were three men, one of whom Regina recognised as Rupert Gold. The men stepped forward into the cell, moving out of Regina’s line of sight.

Regina motioned to Mulan to keep quiet, and they crept towards the cell, weapons drawn.

Just as they were getting close, a voice rang out. “So glad you could join my little party. Why don’t you come a little closer so I can thank you properly for the gift you wrapped so nicely for me.”

Regina signalled for Mulan to follow her lead. She was taken by surprise when Mulan grabbed her from behind, an arm closing around her throat in a chokehold. After a moment of disbelief, Regina struggled, but Mulan was surprisingly strong and easily countered her trickier attempts to break free. In the struggle, Regina lost her grip on her sidearm.

Mulan wrestled her towards the cell, still holding her tightly.

As they entered the cell, Jones looked Regina dead in the eye, and his tone was gloating as he said, “I told you it wasn’t over, bitch.” He leered at her, drawing his sidearm and training it on her. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

Her eyes flickered across to Emma for a moment. She was being restrained by one of Gold’s henchmen and she made an unsuccessful attempt to throw him off and move towards Jones. Regina could see the terror and the desperation in her eyes and could hear Emma screaming her name. She tried as hard as she could to send reassuring thoughts in her direction; she didn’t want to get Emma killed with her.

There was something that passed between Gold and one of the men with him; Regina couldn’t quite hear it, but she felt it like an itch somewhere in her brain. A moment later, the man stepped behind Jones and drew a knife across his throat, spraying the walls with blood.

Regina couldn’t bring herself to feel more than the slightest pang of regret at Jones’ death. He’d sold them out, it seemed, only to be rewarded with betrayal of his own. She was more concerned about what such casual brutality meant for her chances of getting out of this alive and keeping Emma safe at the same time.

Gold looked at Jones’ corpse for a moment, a look of distaste crossing his face. “You’ll do nothing of the sort, my boy.” He turned to her, smiling widely. “Welcome, my dear. I’d like to thank you for taking such good care of my Emma. We’ve missed her a lot.”

It was strange. Now that she was close up and could see him properly, she realised that Gold looked no older than the photo she’d seen of him from twenty years ago. If anything, he looked younger.

Mulan’s hold on her was tight enough that Regina could barely get enough air to speak. She managed to grind out a few words and did her best to make them sound threatening. “Let her go, or it’ll end badly for you.”

Gold looked back and forth between her and Emma, and she could see his eyes narrow calculatingly. “So that’s how it is?” he said. He smiled in a fashion that gave him an entirely reptilian cast, and Regina’s skin crawled at the sight. “You’re not really in a position to make threats, dearie.”

Gold prodded Jones’ corpse with his toe. “You know, I was going to send you to rejoin your little friend here, but I’m rethinking that. You interest me.” He turned to Emma. “And if you let down those walls of yours, I might just let her live.”

She could see the indecision in Emma’s eyes, and then she overheard the impatient whisper of Gold’s mind.

_“I’m waiting.”_

Mulan’s hold on her tightened; where previously she’d been able to get just enough air, just enough blood to her brain, suddenly she was being starved. She struggled against the physical restraint, but it was no use.

With the deprivation, though, something changed. It was like a switch had been flicked, and suddenly, she could see things she hadn’t previously been aware of. She wondered for a moment if it was an illusion born of her fading consciousness, but no, instinctively, she knew that wasn’t it.

She could see the power burning in each of Gold’s henchmen in front of her. In Emma, she could see a much greater ball of light, but it was blanketed by a shifting, shimmering sphere that she realised was a shield. And in Gold, she could see something much, much worse.

Mulan’s grip tightened further. Regina could feel her grasp on consciousness fading, and she tried desperately to hold on.

She saw recognition bloom in Emma’s eyes, as her struggles weakened, and she felt the caress of Emma’s mind against her own, an infinitely brief comfort in the midst of the hell they were in. _“I love you, Regina.”_

She was on the verge of losing consciousness, but somehow she found just enough reserve to hold on a moment longer. And she noticed something she hadn’t before. There was a delicate thread extending from Gold to Mulan, coiling tightly around her. She could see something travelling along the thread, like tiny black ants, and with what little energy she had left, she lashed out at the thread, driven by instinct.

It was enough. Mulan’s hold on her loosened, just enough for precious, precious blood to reach her brain.

The fog of unconsciousness lifted, and now she could see the threads extending between Gold and his henchmen, and dozens of others stretching far into the distance. And along those threads she could see energy coursing, all travelling in one direction, feeding the chaotic ball of power illuminating Gold from within.

She understood now. Gold was a parasite, and Emma’s mind, her power, was greater than any other Gold was feeding off. Emma burned bright, so very bright, but the shell of energy that had surrounded her was gone, now.

Gold’s attention had shifted briefly after the blow she’d struck against his control over Mulan. But he was ignoring her again, intent on Emma. As Regina watched, a strand of energy began to snake out from Emma towards Gold. He was binding Emma too, seeking to feed from her, and it was her fault that Emma had submitted.

She couldn’t let it happen. She couldn’t just sit back and watch Emma be drawn into Gold’s web, couldn’t watch her lose herself after she’d fought so hard. She couldn’t let Emma trade her freedom for Regina’s life.

She threw everything she had at Gold, trying to disrupt him, trying to break the link he was forming with Emma, anything she could to stop him. But her powers were too untrained, too unformed to make any real impact. He batted her away like she was some kind of annoying insect, hardly worthy of his attention, and continued trying to draw Emma’s power, undeterred.

She reached out, her mind brushing against Emma’s. _“Fight back, Emma. Please.”_

She could feel Emma’s resignation as she pushed her away. _“I can’t. It’s better this way. Safer.”_

Despairing, she tried once more. _“We can fight him together.”_ Along with her words, she called upon every iota of feeling, all the love she felt, the despair and loss that were her past and could be her future again, and sent it to Emma. She felt Emma hesitate for a moment, and then accept, drawing her in.

It was like a key fitting a lock; they were made for each other. To join this way was to know and be known, to feel and be felt, an ineffable sense of joy and belonging and _home_. It was a connection that was both ephemeral and forged in stone, an instant and an eternity all at once.

In the moment of their joining they somehow unleashed something greater. She could feel Emma’s astonishment mirroring her own as they were swept up in the wave of power. Together, they were incandescent, a star going nova, and together, they scythed through the threads of Gold’s stolen power, burning them away until nothing was left.

It took a moment for Regina to feel the ground beneath her feet again, to return to the mundane after experiencing the sublime. She mourned the loss of that intense, otherworldly connection and knew that she would search for it again as long as she lived.

As she came back to herself, she realised that the balance of the situation had changed. Gold’s control of Mulan had been severed; she had let go of Regina and was in the process of engaging Gold’s two henchmen. They seemed dazed, perhaps a result of their links to Gold being severed, and before Regina could even move to assist her, Mulan had subdued both.

Gold was slumped on the ground at Emma’s feet. He appeared to be breathing, but Regina wasn’t sure that he was conscious. The immense power that had burned at his core was now barely more than a flicker. She moved closer, cautious in case he was still awake, and as she inspected him, she thought that he looked older, frailer, somehow.

Mulan raised an eyebrow as Regina allowed Emma to walk freely out of the cell before she secured the new prisoners.

“She’s on our side,” Regina said. She could tell that Mulan wasn’t entirely satisfied, and that she would have some explaining to do later. And she would; she’d need Mulan on side if her plan to get Emma off the planet and back to her family was to succeed. “Right now, though, we need to worry about mopping up and making sure the ship is secure.”

“Agreed.”

As they walked down the corridor, Regina rested her hand on Emma’s arm, briefly. _“You’re safe now.”_

Emma smiled, and it was like the sun coming out after a storm. _“I know. Together, we’re strong enough.”_

*****

Mulan was surprisingly easy to placate. She seemed entirely unsurprised when Regina revealed that they’d encountered a community of telepaths, and she wondered for the hundredth time, what Mulan had done before joining PlanEx.

They were heading for their rendezvous, and Regina was nervous. She’d used the couple of days beforehand to set in motion all the things she’d need to ensure she’d be able to keep her promise to take her home. Mal had come through with a lot of the pieces she needed, including helping her establish a paper trail for Emma. She suspected that she now owed Mal more favours than she could reasonably repay in a lifetime.

Between Mulan and herself, they were managing to fly the ship without too many problems. It had been a while since she’d flown one of these, although technically she was listed as the co-pilot. They made it out of the atmosphere safely, perhaps a little less smoothly than Jones would have managed, but in one piece, nonetheless.

As they prepared to dock in the transport, Regina caught hold of Emma’s hand. _“Whatever happens, I need you to know that I love you.”_

In the immediate aftermath of the attack, there had been moments when Regina had felt the words welling up, but she’d held back. The terror of almost losing Emma had been too fresh, and she’d found herself remembering the last time she’d said _I love you_. But now, the very real possibility that she might never get to say it had made her brave again.

They stepped out into the loading bay of the transport and were greeted by a dozen heavily-armed security staff. When it was clear that they offered no threat, the captain of the transport stepped forward to clasp Regina’s arm in greeting.

“Alfred Merlin, Captain of the Nimue. Welcome aboard.” He smiled. “I’ve heard you’ve had a turbulent time of it.”

“Thank you, Captain Merlin. Indeed we have,” she said gravely.

He looked past her towards Mulan and Emma. “And these are?”

“Fa Mulan, Engineer, and Emma Swan, lone survivor of the trade ship, King Midas. Unfortunately, the rest of the crew, Killian Jones, and Dr Victor Whale were overwhelmed in the attack.”

Regina held her breath, waiting to see how he would respond. Emma was primed to exert her control at Regina’s signal. She was relieved when he seemed to accept what she said on face value, although getting through him was the easy part. It was back at HQ that things were likely to become more complicated.

“I’m sorry for your loss. I’ve served on a few survey missions myself, and I know how close you grow to your fellow crew.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “Your briefing mentioned three prisoners?”

Regina nodded. “We’ve wrapped them up nicely for your security squad. They’re being held in the cell under heavy sedation.”

Merlin led them onto the ship proper, and Regina allowed herself to relax slightly. It was going to be alright. It had to be.


	7. Epilogue

Emma shifted nervously as they stepped off the shuttle. There was a reassuring hand on her arm, and the brush of a mind against her own.

_“It’s going to be alright.”_

She was still nervous as they approached Customs, partially due to the possibility that her paperwork wouldn’t hold up, and partially because every step was a step closer to meeting her parents. _Seeing them again_. She had to correct herself; it still didn’t feel quite like it was real.

The woman at Customs smiled perfunctorily. “Welcome to Septa Prime. Please provide your documentation.”

Emma tensed up slightly. Intuitively, she knew that if it came to it, she could coerce the woman into letting them through. If she instructed it, the woman would see whatever she wanted her to.

Her power to control had received quite a workout over the past couple of weeks. The most difficult part had been making it out of PlanEx headquarters, but after Regina had managed to get the Vice President of Security into a room with Emma, she’d managed to coerce him to give the order to let them go. They hadn’t stuck around long enough to let him change his mind.

Now, they were trying their best to keep a low profile. Regina was convinced that it was best that as few people knew of her existence as possible, at least until she was safe with her parents, again. As it was, even her parents didn’t know.

Regina keyed their travel permits into the system and the woman scrutinised them carefully.

“Sightseeing, are we?”

Emma nodded. “Going to see Crystal Lake,” she said. Regina had been working with her to help her with her speech. It was hard to break old habits, particularly after they’d been drilled in with such dire consequences, but she was making progress.

The woman smiled. “You picked the right time. It’s beautiful this time of year.”

“So we’ve heard,” Regina said.

“Well, Ms Mills, Ms Swan. All your documentation appears to be in order. Enjoy your stay.”

It was strange being called by another name, after a lifetime of being just Emma. Regina had chosen the name ’Swan’ when creating her false identity because it was part of the crest of Emma’s mother’s family. It was strange, but Emma was getting used to it and she was beginning to grow attached to the name to the point where she was actually considering keeping it. She’d tried out the sound of Emma Blanchard, in her head and out loud, and somehow, it just didn’t feel right. She wasn’t quite a Blanchard, but to be Emma Swan felt like she was connected to them, just enough. Maybe she’d change her mind, but for now, Emma Swan she would stay.

They walked through Customs and out of the secure area, into chaos. The people, the noise, the traffic, the loud hum of thousands of minds in one place. It was overwhelming, or it should have been, but Regina was there, a constant reassuring presence, her anchor, keeping her from floating away.

“Almost home,” Regina said.

Emma smiled to herself. With Regina by her side, she already was home.


End file.
